Keeper's Conundrum
by Kitt Chaos
Summary: Cecil turned to look Kitt full in the face. "I need to know what is going on; why I am once again facing this challenge; why my detailed memories seem to conflict so strongly with what is happening now; and who you are." Records of heroes weren't supposed to be aware! Kitt fretted that her mission to save her Kingdom by restoring the darkened Records and Realms, was doomed.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – Final Fantasy: Record Keeper is the intellectual property of Square Enix and DeNA. I claim ownership of only the original characters and plot of this story, which is just for amusement – I am receiving no compensation for it. The Final Fantasy realm, in all its myriad forms, has a firm hold of my imagination for which I thank everyone involved.

Author's note – I started posting this story on a Record Keeper forum in April 2015. I'm a lady gamer, so, even though I can't change the sprite, my player character in FF:RK in my mind in both the game and the story is a girl Record Keeper named Kitt. My favorite character is Cecil, this story is just for a lark, so it will be decidedly more fan girl than my usual offerings. While there might be some 'Mary Sue' leanings, there will _not_ be a non-canon ship, and 'Kitt' will be realized as my take on a Record Keeper from the kingdom, rather than a girl like me improbably hijacked into the game. If such a story might intrigue you, read on and I hope you enjoy!

To place the start of the story (I am sure to depart from events and certainly the order of the game pretty quick so for any seasoned fan fic readers, this is most definitely AU) it is during the 'Light Against the Darkness' Event, after you've gained Dark Knight Cecil, but before you've challenged the Gravesite to gain Paladin Cecil.

 _"Once upon a time, there was a kingdom. Its glory was measured in magic and art, and above all else, stories. The record keepers preserved these stories, that their example might inspire peace and prosperity. They used powerful magic to bind their records, not in dusty tomes, but in paintings of great beauty. The Royal Archives. Here, the paintings are sorted by the stories their records tell, and kept under constant guard. And so the ages passed in peace. A peace maintained by the watchful keepers and their records. Until, one day, the records within the paintings began to disappear... As the color of memories past faded, a darkness fell upon the world, bringing catastrophe and ruin." (_ From the introduction to FINAL FANTASY Record Keeper) _  
_

 **Keeper's Conundrum**

Kitt took off her Keeper's Tri-Scroll hat to let the breeze on the summit of Mount Ordeals play through her hat-flattened hair. She'd always thought the headgear looked rather silly, with its three corners curling in all directions, but Dr. Mog insisted she wear it, as a sign of her station. Personally, she thought it was because she'd muffed up the test about the garment so long ago, failing to state what each corner represented to a Record Keeper - Observation, Research and Understanding - those meanings were locked into her brain now, but the moogle genius claimed there was no such design behind his command.

Her eyes lifted from the semi-detested hat to gaze out upon the scene spanned before her. The bulk of the mountain, as well as the camp, was behind her, so she was able to look out for miles across the expanse of the forest surrounding Mount Ordeals. If she could view far enough, mythic Mysidia lay in the direction of her gaze, and behind her, across miles of water lay the kingdom of Baron.

Oh, she knew she wasn't in the 'real' world that held both Baron and Mysidia, this was the Record Realm based on that world and the heroes who made their mark on that world's stories. But, when she could see this view, feel this breeze blowing through her hair, and... "I can't believe this is happening to me!"

"What? What can't you believe?" The statement might have seemed challenging, except the tone of voice that delivered it was calm and gentle. Still, Kitt's heart thudded emphatically when she turned to face her team mate.

Cecil, the Dark Knight, in all his solid, darkened armor and rueful melancholy, faced her. He was one of her favorite heroes of the Record Realms, had been since the very beginning of her apprentice days, but the reality of him, or what seemed to pass as a reality of him, had taken some getting used to. Like most of the heroes, he was tall, far taller than she was. Like _all_ the heroes, even the shorter ones like Rydia, he was possessed of a significant presence. Further, he was clad head to toe in dark armor that exhausted Kitt just by looking at it - she judged it to be ninety pounds if it was an ounce, and yet it never seemed to slow the Dark Knight down. And the helmet. Yes, he was the Dark Knight. She knew his Record better than any other - how the king of Baron had commanded him to take up the dark sword and learn the dark blade's arts and it made sense that he was to embody all that a dark knight was because of all that, but _really_! Did his helmet have to be so fearsome? It always made her heart thud whenever she saw it, even though she knew the heart buried under all that dark armor and the eyes hidden behind that terrifying visor were kind.

"Uhm, this view. It's spectacular!" Kitt said in answer to his question. She wasn't sure how else to answer him - in a way, she wasn't sure what exactly he was, after all.

She was here, inside the Record Realm of the real Cecil's world, detailed by a magical painting in the Royal Archives. Some fell force of evil and ignorance was attacking her kingdom, and its actions manifested in the darkening of the various mystical paintings of each Record Realm. Her mentor, Dr. Mog, charged her with entering the various Record Realms to restore the stories, which would restore the paintings, a task she had been thrilled (and secretly delighted) to be given, and when the first few missions had given her help in the form of the Warrior, the White Mage, and so forth she'd been professional, but, when the first hero with a detailed personality and legend joined, she'd been flummoxed.

Not that she let on. Not that they seemed all that different than the unnamed heroes, either. Each followed her suggestions, even traversing with her outside of his or her own realm without reservation, complaint, or discomfort. She thought that perhaps they were recordings of the heroes, or the hero's memorable actions, rather than the heroes themselves - a thought that made sense, and gave her some relief (as she couldn't mess up the actual reality the Record Realms were based on by confusing the 'real' heroes) but also saddened her. How cool would it be to actually meet Cecil and the others? To adventure alongside of them, and have their help saving her world as she helped to save their individual Record Realms? Still, she wasn't going through each conflict and battle with any sort of historical accuracy - she wasn't there in the actual realm from each reality, after all. Each battle unfolded a bit differently than the record of the battle indicated, just by the fact she was there not merely witnessing the battles, but actually fighting in them. Also, the named heroes traveling from one Record Realm to the other? That was new. Cloud never helped Tidus in his world. Every once in a while rumors would float among the apprentices in the dormitories about a special Record Realm, one that was much more complicated than the others, one that only Master Archivists (such as Dr. Mog) could view (much less enter) where such realm-wide crossovers occurred, but Kitt didn't even know this to be absolutely true.

Cecil loomed over her, staring down at her with that fearsome armored aspect for long enough that Kitt began to not only fidget, but wonder if she would have to leap off the mountain to avoid the cold, merciless stare of the Dark Knight. Cecil displayed some of his strength, coordination and grace leveraging his dark heavy armor in such a way he was able to sit next to her without falling down flat on his back. The relief from his looming presence made Kitt smile faintly. "I've been wanting to speak with you," Cecil began. "I have some questions that I think you might be able to answer."

"I'll do my best," Kitt replied. She shivered. "But, could I ask a favor? Could you - lift your visor?"

Cecil's gauntleted hand performed a precise, practiced motion so fast Kitt couldn't even tell exactly what he did, but two swift metallic clicks later she was able to see Cecil's rueful, self-deprecating smile as he released both the top and bottom halves of the face plate of his helmet to reveal his face. "My apologies. I forget how daunting it is to gaze upon my dark knight battle aspect."

"Daunting indeed! At least with Kain, and how short I am in comparison, I can peek under his frightening dragon helm to see his face."

"I had not considered that before." He leaned in a little and lowered his voice as if conveying a secret. "I always have to gaze upon the aspect of the dragon, as Kain and I are close to the same height."

Kitt laughed.

"Good. Now I know you are no longer intimidated by the 'dark knight' I am." Cecil's gently teasing manner dropped. "I have concerns that only you may help alleviate."

"Go on," Kitt replied. "I'm listening."

Now it was Cecil's turn to gaze into the distance. "I've had this strange feeling, ever since I met you. It's very strong - this feeling that I've done this before, but not in this way. In my memories, I have confronted my past before, on the top of this very mountain, but Kain wasn't with me. Neither were Tidus, nor Cloud. At this point, Rydia had been swept overboard from my care into the Land of the Eidolons. You are young, nearly as young as Palom and Porom, and yet you display the very rare ability Tellah possessed, of being able to use many schools of magic at once. These three are the ones who were with me when I ascended Mount Ordeals." Cecil turned to look at Kitt full in the face with a rather stern expression. "I need to know what is going on; why I am once again facing this challenge; why my detailed memories seem to conflict so strongly with what is happening now; and who you are. I need to know what has happened to my friends who aren't here, when they should be, and why friends from different times, and different worlds entirely, are present when my memory indicates they ought not be."

"Oh, wow," Kitt muttered. "Oh, dear!" She continued as the full impact of what Cecil asked hit her. "I don't know how I can explain... Oh, this could ruin everything!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Two**

Cecil's eyes were shadowed by more than his helmet. "Having had my power misused by evil before, I am wary of being so complacent, now. I admit you do not seem evil, and so far your actions seem to be toward some good, perhaps even noble purpose, but I can't ignore the warnings of my memory. It's like a strong, irresistible déjà vu, that all this has happened before, but in an entirely different way, with entirely different people and I must know what it means before I continue."

Kitt realized that some of Cecil's aura of melancholy was caused by her, or rather the situation around her. The last thing she'd want to do is trouble Cecil, trouble any of the heroes, actually. She drew her breath in sharply as she fully realized what Cecil's observation and questions indicated. He wasn't just some interactive recording of the 'real' Cecil, such a recording wouldn't have misgivings. That meant that he had to be – some how he was indeed – the _real_ Cecil. While one part of her mind reeled at the implications – the danger might have increased a thousand-fold for, if the heroes of legend were actually here, their home worlds could be vulnerable to whatever or whoever was attacking her kingdom. Another horrifying thought occurred to her, if one of the heroes fell here, before he or she completed their legendary actions in their home realm... Dr. Mog. She'd have to somehow talk with Dr. Mog about all this, but until then... With Cecil's gaze boring so deeply into hers with his need, no, his _right_ to know what was going on... She couldn't ignore the feeling that she owed him the explanation, the honest explanation, he was requesting. But, if she did, then what of her mission? Would everything fall apart if the heroes knew this wasn't tied to their worlds? Would they continue to fight once they knew it wasn't their own individual fights? And, a simpler consideration, how to tell Cecil the truth in the first place, as the story was rather unbelievable to anyone who wasn't a Record Keeper.

Kitt had dithered enough. No amount of such roundabout thinking would solve her dilemma. Did she tell Cecil the truth, knowing that it was almost assuredly likely that he'd share his knowledge with at least some of his fellow heroes? Did she trust these heroes of legend enough to give them the truth, and hope that some of them might consider helping her, and saving her world?

Cloud had to be bribed to be a hero in the first place, at least according to his legend. Sephiroth was a fallen hero, and even when he was a hero it seemed to Kitt as if he just wanted to prove his skill against mighty beasts in the course of his job, rather than in an attempt to save anyone. Tifa and Aerith were rather more pure of heart, as was Cecil, even when he was a dark knight, but then there was Kain, who'd changed sides so much that Kitt wasn't sure if he could be considered a good guy or not. And then the nameless heroes? The Mages, and Bard and Warrior, and the others? What of them? They seemed to belong to all realms, or perhaps none at all... Did she trust them? How could she decide?

But, they weren't the ones asking. It was Cecil, and from all she'd read about him, which had only solidified with her contact with him here, she did trust him. Dr. Mog might not understand, but there was no way Kitt could keep information away from someone who was seeking the truth so simply.

"You know how sometimes stories, especially ones of real events can take on a life of their own? Certain of these stories are so powerful, the purity of their goodness, or the strength of their heroism is such that they are more than one world can contain – or so I believe. Oh, Dr. Mog is going to be so upset with me that I am speaking about this with you, but... Your story, and Kain's, Cloud's, Tidus', Rydia's and those of the others and those of heroes I may yet encounter are these sort of stories – they have grown into legends. They are so powerful, in fact, that these legends have been the cornerstone of my kingdom for eons. I am a Record Keeper, or at least I used to be before this," Kitt finished in a whisper, still fretting about Dr. Mog's reaction when he found out she'd spoken so clearly to one of the heroes.

"A Record Keeper? Explain," Cecil urged.

"We guard the Records that ensure the enlightenment and peace of our kingdom. Your stories are part of the Great Chronicle. Each Record is a beautiful picture crafted by art, aided by magic, kept in special galleries in the Royal Archives. Guarding these Records is the highest honor of a Record Keeper," Kitt answered. _An honor I might now never see._

"So, you are such a guardian?"

"No – not yet. I am, was, an apprentice Record Keeper. I get to study the details of the stories in books, the very ones used to inspire the artists who crafted the Records. In order to become a Master Record Keeper, one of those who does guard the paintings in the Royal Archives, one must understand the events behind the artwork. That's what I was trying to do with my studies."

"How is it you are here? And, I think I am starting to understand, but what is _here_?" Cecil asked.

"Oh, I am surely in for it when Dr. Mog finds out I've told you all this!" Kitt uselessly twisted her hands together in agitation.

Cecil smiled. "I will be sure to keep your secret, then. Although, you should know that I am not the only one who has memories at odds with what is happening here."

"Oh! Who else?" Kitt wondered. _How did I not see this, if they are all concerned?_

"Everyone." Cecil considered. "Well, everyone who has a name. Our comrades in arms who don't have names don't seem to have any conflicting memories."

"I am sure this is not what Dr. Mog was expecting when he gave me the task of restoring the Great Chronicle! You see, the Records are... darkening, and people are forgetting the beautiful legends and lessons recording in each one. People are – they are acting different. Wrong. There is a dark cloud over the kingdom. I think it's ignorance, and meanness, because the Records are darkened. Dr. Mog sent me here, through the Gallery of Records, to try to save the stories, while he tries to figure out why it's happening in the first place. Oh, I've probably ruined our last chance to save our kingdom by telling you all this!"

"Kitt, does our knowledge of what is happening truly threaten the success of your mission? In what way does our understanding of what is going on impede it?" Cecil asked gently.

Both closed their eyes against a sudden and powerful flash of light. Kitt tried to clear the dazzle from her eyes by blinking furiously. It took her a moment to realize the swift series of metallic clinks next to her must be Cecil scrambling to his feet to face whatever threatened them, a good idea, if ever there was one, as she followed suit.

"It doesn't, kupo." Dr. Mog floated in his moogle way in front of them. Kitt noticed that they were somehow in the Head Keeper's own study instead of on a rocky overlook on Mount Ordeals. "I should have realized this sooner. Fie on me for placing restrictions on you, Kitt. Understanding and knowledge are what we try to promote. Perhaps my worry over what is happening to the Records clouded my judgement, kupo."

Cecil seemed to take their relocation in stride as he dropped his battle-ready stance and even bowed his head slightly toward the moogle scholar. "You are the Dr. Mog Kitt has spoken of? Please understand she would not have broken trust with you had I not pressed her."

Dr. Mog floated a bit closer. "Remarkable. I don't know how, but you are the real Cecil Harvey, are you not?"

"I am a knight, whether the paladin I still feel I am though reverted in form and skills back to those of the dark knight I currently appear to be, and have no way to answer such a philosophical question," Cecil replied.

Dr. Mog darted forward to lightly bop Cecil on his nose with the plume in his hand. "The fact that you characterize it as a philosophical question, Cecil, belies that, kupo. But my question isn't about philosophy at all. Here and now, you, the being facing me, you are at the very least the spirit of Cecil Harvey who used to be a dark knight, became a paladin on the top of Mount Ordeals, and ultimately took up the kingship of Baron, yes?"

Cecil nodded. "That is what my memories seem to indicate."

Dr. Mog continued. "And further, Cloud and Tidus – you recognize them from adventures prior to this? Be careful in how you answer, for some of us do not have full knowledge of certain truths – yet." Dr. Mog bobbed toward Kitt.

Cecil nodded again. "I have been honored to call both of them my friends – and that friendship helped me discover necessary truths during a difficult challenge in my past."

Kitt turned her attention from one to the other, certain there was some secret they were keeping from _her_.

"As for the secret I asked her to keep from you, kupo... Will it be sufficient if I tell you that you, and your friends, are helping to save our kingdom from a danger we have no other way to confront? To the best of our knowledge, your actual realms are not in any danger, but ours, dependent as it is on all of yours, is. I will endeavor to discover how it is your spirits responded to our plight..." Dr. Mog tapered off in thought.

"That is easy to discern," Cecil replied. "You are librarians, and researchers, keepers of records, are you not? Some evil threatens your world and while it manifests as the forgetting of legends and the darkening of art works now, its ultimate form may well be something far more dangerous, something you, pardon me, that Record Keepers, no matter how skilled at guarding and maintaining such records, are not well-suited to confront."

"You must be correct. I had not thought of that, kupo. We are Record Keepers, and very good at what we do, but very few of us are capable of heroic adventuring." Dr. Mog indicated his own diminutive form. He was a fine example of a moogle, of course, but his point was clear. "Kitt would be easily defeated if she were on her own, despite her special abilities. We are fortunate that the spirits of legends, even when we didn't intentionally 'call' you, responded to our plight, kupo."

"From that, I am certain that once the threat has been defeated, even if you never figure out how we were called, we will return home. Until then, I am more than willing to help," Cecil told him simply.

Kitt had never seen Dr. Mog so nonplussed, or so deferential as the moogle replied. "A bounty undeserved, King Cecil. In case we do not have a chance to meet again, rest assured you have my gratitude, and that of our entire kingdom. It is an honor to have met you, kupo."

"And I, you, Dr. Mog."

"Kitt, don't you dare hound Cecil, or anyone else, for information. There are some things you are not yet ready to learn – but never fear, I am sure you will be ready, soon enough, kupo. For now... Kitt, continue as before. King Cecil, if I may impose a favor upon you..." Dr. Mog turned from pinning his apprentice with a stern stare to regard the dark knight again.

"If I am able."

"Dr. Mog nodded. "Oh, I don't ask for impossible things, kupo. At least, not knowingly. Would you, when opportunities arise, bring each of your friends up to speed with what you now know? Relieve their concerns and let them know that this conflict is for a worthy cause – the salvation of our kingdom, nay, our very world."

"For that reason alone I can vouchsafe for the aid you request from myself, certainly, and I believe from most everyone who has unknowingly responded," Cecil replied.

Kitt shook her head slowly from side to side.

"This – isn't satisfactory to you?" Cecil asked, with a touch of disillusionment in his voice.

"No, I think it's wonderful! Why would you think otherwise?"

"You were shaking your head, Kitt," Dr. Mog told her.

"I was? Oh, no, that's not why. It's just... Cecil..." Kitt tapered off.

"King Cecil," Dr. Mog corrected.

"King Cecil, you might currently look like a dark knight, but you sure sound like a paladin!" Kitt grinned up at him.

"Oh? And how would you know what a paladin is supposed to sound like, kupo?" Dr. Mog teased.

Kitt pointed toward the dark knight. "If it looks like a duck (well, he doesn't look like a paladin so much right now) but, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's probably not a chicken."

"So I've gone from dark knight, to paladin, to barnyard bird in the span of a minute? This is a foul development." Cecil muttered.

Kitt giggled.

"That's better. Now, before my dignity takes any more bruising, shall we return to Mount Ordeals? Hopefully for the last time for a while. I'm getting mightily tired of scaling its haunted heights, though it will be a relief to appear once more as the paladin I am, rather than the dark knight I had been," Cecil admitted.

"Kitt, go on ahead. I want a moment more with King Cecil," Dr. Mog commanded.

Kitt was obviously reluctant, but obeyed, leaving the study through a door so tiny she had to crouch to navigate her way through it.

"You don't need to ask me to look out for her," Cecil said, while wondering how he was to leave this book-filled space. There was no way he could maneuver his tall frame through the door, even if he weren't clad head to toe in bulky, heavy armor. "All of us keep an eye on her in combat, but she holds her own."

"I can't say that I'm not concerned, but if she fails to measure up, there's not much I can do. We rely on her because we must, kupo," Dr. Mog told Cecil seriously.

Cecil considered. "You waited to bring us here until she decided on her own to tell me what is truly going on. You used my concern about this as – as a test for her, did you not?"

"Indeed I did. A hero is more than the sum of his, or her, own skills. A hero is also determined by the decisions that hero makes. For some, withholding information and keeping secrets works, but that would be a false path for a Record Keeper. I am pleased that Kitt, when faced with the decision, decided to be honest with you," Dr. Mog replied.

"As am I. I can help without reservation, now. I can fight with an undivided heart," Cecil told him.

"Of that, King Cecil, I fear the truth remains to be seen, kupo." The moogle scholar said with an uncharacteristically somber air, before waving the plume in his hand in a mystic gesture that temporarily blinded the dark knight. Cecil wasn't surprised to find himself on Mount Ordeals once his vision cleared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Three**

"And, that's what we're doing here," Cecil concluded, finishing his explanation of what he had learned from Dr. Mog.

"Hmph," Sephiroth grunted, before walking away.

"What happens next?" Kain asked.

"We should be nearing the end of this Record," Kitt replied. "Once Cecil enters the grave site over there and confronts himself as the Dark Knight, this Record should be saved, and open the route to the next one."

"Kitt – how many Records are there?" Cloud asked. "And – do we have to save them all?"

"Uh, I'm-I'm not sure. Some Records depend on others – you can't confront Cagnazzo in Baron Castle if you don't first defeat the Mist Dragon, for example," Kitt replied.

"It's too bad we have to repeat the mistakes from before, instead of doing the right thing," Cecil noted softly. "Slaying the Mist Dragon..." He shook his head.

"That was – unfortunately, truly. But, Cecil, if you and Kain hadn't done so, if Mysidia and Mist hadn't been attacked..." Kitt began.

"If _I_ hadn't attacked them, you mean."

"Yes," Kitt replied. Cecil's head snapped up at her firm tone. "If you want to debate the merit of actions worthy of being Recorded in my world, I am more than a match for you, Cecil. I am a Record Keeper, and I've been able to discern how the weaving of actions, both 'right' actions and 'wrong' ones, together form legends and forge heroes. If you hadn't attacked Mysidia, and, yes, slaughtered innocents in the process, if you hadn't killed the Mist Dragon and, inadvertently, if you recall, contributed to the destruction of Mist, you wouldn't have realized that your king was not acting right. You wouldn't have taken a stand against your own kingdom. All of the Crystals might have fallen into Golbez's hands uncontested, he could have awakened the Giant of Babil and destroyed all humans from the surface without anyone to stop him. If your history had played out that way – there wouldn't be Records of the heroism of your world to be examples for mine to emulate."

Kain looked into Kitt's eyes. "In such an alternate history, I might not have been complicit with Golbez's actions. There would have been no need."

"And it might not have happened as it did, but there's no guarantee that my world would not have realized and confronted Golbez's threat if I had not..." Cecil added.

"True, both of you. And, I must admit that pondering such alternate versions is a pastime among us apprentice Record Keepers. But, things happened as they did for a reason. Cecil, if you had been the Paladin from the get-go, if you'd never been the Dark Knight, your achievements on your world would still be important, but their impact on mine would be lessened. Kain, your nobility in admitting and confronting your betrayals defines a vital facet of friendship in mine. How often do we, either deliberately or without meaning to, hurt a friend? Your betrayal of Cecil was shocking, because your friendship was so strong and well-tested, first. You both decided to go against your king for his atrocities. That's an insanely high level of trust as either one of you could have turned the other in for treason. For this reason, Kain, your betrayal carried great impact. That makes everything that comes after, from both of you, an example of the durable strength of true friendship for my world. If I have a petty disagreement with my friend, we can always choose to work it out because we have the example of Kain and Cecil to do so. A blueprint of how to fix it, as it were."

"That was all Cecil..."

"I _knew_ you were going to say that!" Kitt exclaimed. "Yeah, Cecil's forgiveness is part of it, but only half. The other half is accepting that forgiveness, which you did, even though you don't even seem to recognize that you did, even after all this time!"

Cecil chuckled. "Well put, Kitt."

"She's right," Cloud added. "If you hadn't forgiven yourself, you wouldn't be able to be friends now. So, that's how our stories work in your world, huh?"

"In part. There is a mystical connection between the Records that together make the Great Chronicle. It has the effect of spreading peace and harmony throughout the kingdom at all times. That flow of peace has been interrupted, and it is as if my people are being pushed into actions they would normally never take," Kitt answered.

"Can a people who rely so heavily on the reflected heroism of stories not even their own be considered truly good? I wonder," Sephiroth asked as he approached again.

Kitt started violently, first because Sephiroth had approached from directly behind her with his customary stealth and second because of his judgmental question.

"You are pure evil, you know that?" Tifa retorted.

"And that comes as a surprise to...?" Sephiroth smirked as he turned a dismissive shoulder to the group again and stalked away.

"No one," Kain concluded. Sephiroth's comment had the effect of breaking the conversation apart, with everyone somewhat awkwardly heading in different directions to ponder over what Kitt had revealed to them.

"Maybe not a surprise, but surely a disappointment," Kitt whispered to herself staring after Sephiroth with something like a betrayed gaze before she wandered toward the overlook she seemed to favor.

Cecil overheard her comment and nodded slowly to himself. "As ever, there is sorrow in those wintry eyes," he said to himself. "Perhaps..."

"That one does seem out of place in this group," Kain noted as he approached, jutting his chin toward Sephiroth's back.

"It seems so," Cecil agreed. "But..."

Kain shook his head slowly. "Cecil, your willingness to look toward the innate goodness of everyone is admirable, but, sometimes there isn't any goodness to find."

Cecil shook his head in turn. "I don't believe that."

"You're a noble idiot, you know that? Perhaps it takes a backstabber to recognize one."

"You are not a backstabber!" Cecil exclaimed.

"Perhaps not as literal as Sephiroth," Kain allowed. "But, I still betrayed you, Rosa, and nearly our world."

"Kain..."

Kain spread his hands. "I know, I know. We've had this discussion before, and, I know that you don't blame me, but..." Kain paced a few steps away, evidently gathering his thoughts. "Let me put this a different way: while you may have been a dark knight..."

Cecil lifted an eyebrow and opened his arms, mutely indicating the dark and heavy armor he was currently clad in.

Kain laughed. "Well, yes. You and I know that is simply a temporary situation that doesn't indicate the reality – or whatever this is. If I may continue..." Cecil nodded, so Kain went on. "Even when you were – merely – the dark knight, darkness never ruled your heart. When I seized Rosa and betrayed you, that darkness did rule me. I have a perspective from that experience that you, my friend, do not. There is a darkness in Sephiroth that I can clearly see. He bears watching."

"You may be right, Kain, but I trust you to take no rash actions. I will leave it to you," Cecil replied.

* * *

A figure stood in stark silhouette in front of a blank, white canvas. "This. Will. Not. Do! What does that pipsqueak Head Keeper think he's doing? Sending that goody-two shoes apprentice of his into the Records to undo all the progress I've made. I'm not ready to reveal my master plan – yet." The figure paced in silent agitation for several minutes. "Well, then. Anything she can do – I can do – better! The Great Chronicle will be a Great Catastrophe by the time I'm finished with it – heroes or no." Light scintillated from an object in the figure's hand as that hand reached forward to scribe a menacing, sinuous black line diagonally across the massive canvas. "On second thought, I vote 'no' to the heroes." The image snaking upon the canvas gained more depth and detail as the figure continued swiftly to add more and more lines. "There! This should stop Kitt's little rescue mission dead in its tracks, and I mean _dead_!" All the light seemed to gather in the clear facets of the object in the figure's hand, then entered into the vivid black lines depicting a mythic monster. A brilliant crystalline flash later and the canvas was gone – blasted to bits by the magic 'birth' of the monster that had been drawn upon its surface – the monster now patiently floating before the one who'd brought it into being – waiting for the order than would send it forth to do its master's bidding.


	4. Chapter 4

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Four**

Sephiroth's Oblivion hit set the Dark Knight reeling right into the path of Kain's Double Jump. The punishment of the powerful strikes, on top of the damage Cecil, Tidus and Kitt had helped pile on him, was too much, and the Dark Knight went down in defeat. Cecil was troubled, very slightly, that they had beaten this foe in combat, and as a group. In the past, he had confronted the Dark Knight, the embodiment of his own dark nature and the evil deeds of his actions as a dark knight, after he had been transformed into a paladin. The battle, such as it was, had been fought within the Sanctuary of Light, not in front of it, and the key to winning had been for him to defend only, and launch no attacks. By enduring the heavy attacks, powered by the Dark Knight's remaining life force, Cecil had proved that he had truly broken from his dark past. It was fitting, in a way, for the Dark Knight to expend what life remained against the Paladin – almost as if the light in him fully accepted the shadows that were in his nature too, and still managed to shine brighter.

But, despite these troubling discrepancies between this encounter and the one in his past, they'd won the battle. Here it was, the moment with the Dark Knight foe defeated, the light would descend upon him, and finally, he could shed the dark armor and skills of his previous life and take up his paladin aspect and skills once more. Cecil set his balance against the disorientation he remembered from when he transformed into the paladin the first time. Nothing happened.

A sliver of brightest incandescence split the nearest wall of the Sanctuary of Light evenly in two and a doorway appeared. A figure appeared within that opening, silhouetted by the light shining behind him, and stepped forward.

A voice, touched with sadness, warmth, and paternal pride in equal measures spoke. "Justice and retribution are but trifling things. There are victories of greater worth. Someday you will know them. Go forth now, Cecil!"

Cecil remembered that solemn tone and the sense of the words, though they, too, were slightly different than in his memory. The split in the wall of the Sanctuary closed, and the brightly armored man approached.

Cecil's world spun about as he recognized his paladin self as the warrior nearing the party.

 _But...!_

His world rocked to the core, Cecil almost reeled in his disorientation. It was only his years of knightly training, and yes, his years wearing such heavy armor that kept him on his feet – that, and taking a moment to close his eyes so he could gather his wits and his bearings.

While he was engaged in his silent struggle, the rest of the party advanced to greet the newcomer, who certainly looked like Cecil in his paladin aspect. The paladin smiled in response to the warm greetings, but held up a warding hand and walked past everyone to approach the dark knight. He reached forward and grasped the other's shoulders to support him.

The dark knight lifted his head at the touch that he somehow sensed even through the metal of his armor. Whoever noticed his distress had managed to anchor him, for which he was grateful. He wasn't sure what was going on, or how he would bear it – he fully expected, when the Dark Knight foe had been defeated, to have the light blaze brightly through his soul and be once more mystically transformed into his paladin self. When another, instantly recognizable as the paladin, stepped forward instead – and he hadn't disappeared, it threw him into the most awful doubt and confusion.

 _How many times must I confront and defeat the evil I had once done? Will I never be forgiven – will I never be free – of this?_ He looked down at the heavy metal encasing his hand as he raised his armored arm to gaze at the dark gauntlet he wore. Another hand, intimately familiar and clad in a significantly lighter and also familiar vambrace, entered his point of view and grasped his hand.

He looked up, not into Kain's eyes as he had expected, but into his own, framed in his paladin guise. _No – we will never be free of this. Forgiven, by others, yes, but we know – the rest of our life is the coin we must spend to make up for what we have done._ An odd thing happened as his twin gazes locked – it was as if his awareness darted back and forth between his two aspects shifting his awareness of self through his point of view, his sense of balance, and the details of the scene before him. It should have made him sick, it should have disrupted his balance enough to violently throw him, in both his forms, to the ground, but it didn't.

He knew he was the dark knight, still, even though his skills oriented toward the light, as his armor reflected. He knew he was the paladin, once more, though the shadowed, heavy armor showed he was still the dark knight. Each aspect was discrete from the other, and yet harmony flowed between them, unity of purpose and spirit bolstering and being bolstered, comforted and offering comfort and somehow he, his spirit, his mind was not overwhelmed by the fact that he was truly one being, though, improbably, presented and embodied in two separate forms – his past and present in the same place at the same time.

There was just enough of a perceptual offset that there was a difference. It was very slight, but just enough that Cecil knew that while he was communicating, somehow without words with himself, it wasn't as if he had gone mad, or was even in danger of doing so.

 _Perhaps the magic of the Record Realms is having this effect,_ he thought.

 _That is as good an explanation as any,_ his other self agreed. _For now, we can function as two, though we are truly one. It could be there is a need for both the dark Cecil and the light one to confront evil side by side._

 _I – we – can bear that. As long as I don't slip into unquestioning obedience again._

 _When I won't permit that to happen? Come, the others are approaching._

Cecil, in both of his slightly offset points of view, discovered the communication continued to flow gently under the more immediate thoughts on the surface. While the others were predictably drawn to greet the 'newcomer' paladin Cecil, Kain neared his companion still clad in dark armor. As he walked up he nodded to signal his friend to walk toward the side slightly apart from the others. Once they were out of earshot, Kain removed his dragon-shaped helmet, by which Cecil knew that Kain was not only serious, but earnest.

Kain stared searchingly into his friend's eyes. "An unexpected development," he observed. "How goes it with you, my friend?"

"I am... I am the paladin over yonder," dark knight Cecil lifted his chin toward the other. "and I'm not. Perhaps it is similar to Palom and Porom – we are – twins of a sort. We don't display it, but I am as much light as he is, and he possesses the same darkness I do."

Kain looked at Cecil for a very long moment after that and shook his head. "I have never understood how your mind works." He smiled faintly. "Perhaps right now that is 'minds'."

"No, we share the same mind – in fact 'he' is aware of this conversation with you, while I am aware of the terrible joke that Tidus is trying to tell him."

"Must I fear for your sanity?" Kain tried to hide his real concern for his friend behind the light and almost bantering tone of his question, but failed.

"No more than usual, my friend." Cecil placed his hand firmly against Kain's nearest shoulder and gave him a hard shove. The dragoon barely budged. "Come, let us return to our group. Rest assured, despite the strangeness of this situation, I am okay."

"Hmph," Kain replied, replacing his helmet on his head.

"Have you noticed any new developments with 'them'?" Cecil asked. Kain knew immediately who the dark knight meant. 'Them' had become something of a code between everyone who had a personal name, to refer to those who didn't. The presence of companions who bore job titles, instead of names, was an ongoing mystery. Kitt didn't seem to be particularly bothered by them, accepting their help as she did that of all the heroes. The rest, or at least most of the rest (who knew what went on in Sephiroth's mind, as unless there was a battle going on, he kept to himself) traded off keeping tabs on them.

"It is as it usually is with 'them'. They are polite enough, pleasant in an undemanding, bland sort of way. Each still has and uses his or her individual skills, and admittedly they do it well, but there is something lacking..." Kain replied.

Cecil paused, struck by something. "I wonder... Perhaps they can't really fight like we do, like they mean it, because they have no reason to?" He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "I need to ponder this. Maybe that's why I'm two instead of one this time – dark and light, both aspects of my being, separated, and yet not..."

Kain stared sourly at him. "You just assured me of your continued sanity, at least as much as you've displayed in the past, and then you say something like that?" He shook his head. "Still, there may be some truth to what you are trying to say. I think I might grasp some of it. How can one fight with all one's heart – how can one do anything with all one's heart, if one doesn't have a name?"

"Perhaps it is deeper than that. It's not just the name that's missing – it's the very concept that they should possess names," Cecil observed.

"And yet they aren't like the manikins in the conflict between Chaos and Cosmos. They are people – not constructs," Kain observed.

"I agree. Perhaps they've forgotten that?" Cecil ventured.

"Perhaps. I will keep watch over them for now."


	5. Chapter 5

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Five**

As strange as it seemed, even the extraordinary adventure had become somewhat routine. Kitt had been accustomed to spending her days reading documents, viewing the Records, attending art classes and lectures, and assisting Dr. Mog as his apprentice with various duties in the Royal Archives. Now, she traveled in the company of legendary heroes, fought against mythic monsters, and visited half-familiar but exotic realms. She tried to find a logic in how the Realms were connected, even taking the time to plot things out on paper, but the truth eluded her. She was just as much in the dark as the heroes were whenever she opened a portal to the next part of the adventure.

She had become something of the leader, much to her surprise. Heroes, who in their own legends had been the leaders, deferred to her judgement. No, in many cases, they encouraged her to take the leadership role. Cloud, alone of all of them, seemed to realize how uncomfortable she was taking the lead, and yet, after she pondered for a bit, even that made sense. Cloud had been a reluctant leader himself, so of course he could sense her reluctance. It did surprise her that he took the time to be available, away from the others, to talk about it.

After a particularly difficult battle, the guilt over the injuries her companions endured was too much. Kitt had to walk away, while the healers were hard at work using their strongest spells to cure the wounded. She needed to clear her mind of the Spellblade disciplines she had used in the fight, and focus on White Magic so she could help. She wandered away from the clearing and into the trees of the woods trying to find the peace, quiet and mental discipline to refocus and change her skills. "Maybe I should ask Dr. Mog to concentrate on figuring out how the heroes are here, and try to find a way to send them home," she said as she slumped forward to lightly bang her forehead against the trunk of a tree. "Letting them, no, _leading_ them into battles where they get so hurt... I just can't..."

"You just can't take such monsters by yourself." Sephiroth smiled slightly as Kitt started as violently as she usually did at his silent, looming approach.

"Uhm..." Kitt's eyes darted nervously side to side as she realized she was out of everyone's sight – everyone except for Sephiroth. He might have been fighting alongside the heroes, at her very side even, but there was no way that she trusted him. She knew he was a villain, through and through.

Sephiroth lifted his right hand in a gracefully arrogant gesture to indicate that trying to harm her was beneath his notice. "As if," he said with a slight scowl. "You are quite clearly over-matched by such foes as we just dispatched for you. Why would you consider trying to dismiss us and going it alone?"

"That's not..." Kitt began. "Wow, that's totally twisting it the wrong way! I don't want any of you, yes, even _you_ , getting hurt in battles that aren't even your own!"

"Oh, and they are yours?"

"It's my world," Kitt countered.

"Perhaps," Sephiroth allowed. "But they are our battles. _Our_ Records. Who better to confront monsters from our worlds than the heroes from those very worlds? Certainly not a bookish little scholar."

Kitt glared up at him for the insult. "A 'bookish little scholar' who can try to kick your ass with any number of skills from all the worlds!" She clenched her hands and wondered herself if it was in preparation to attack him, or to try to control her anger.

Sephiroth smiled slightly at that. "Good. Despair is a pointless activity for you. Little scholar, in all of your studies, has any hero had more than momentary success going it as a lone wolf?"

Kitt bristled at the insult, but decided to ignore it. She considered his words after the mean comment instead, as it was a question seeking the truth. Darn him for realizing this weakness of hers! Still, a valid question, even one whose answer was a foregone conclusion, begged to be pondered. Squall had tried to 'lone wolf' it, but not really succeeded without his friends. Cloud, from Sephiroth's own world, had claimed he didn't need anybody but that was a lie. "Heroes do seem to need companions," Kitt allowed.

"Isn't it usually the villain who acts alone, or, at most, has minions?" Sephiroth pressed.

Kitt hadn't considered it before, but Sephiroth was correct. Kefka had gone so far as to kill his own minions once they had outlived their usefulness. Sephiroth himself had been brutal to his 'clones'.

"Why... Why are you here?" Kitt asked in a whisper. Part of it was wondering why he had followed her into the woods, but mostly she was asking why he was fighting on her side to save her world.

"One could say that I have a unique perspective on the differences between heroes and villains," Sephiroth replied.

That was true, Kitt allowed. Sephiroth had been a hero at first. Shinra's fall, in a very real way, had precipitated his own. "Sephiroth..."

"Don't misunderstand," Sephiroth interrupted. "I am a hero no longer. But, my past experience helps me to understand heroes and what works best for them." He paused, to stare very deliberately into Kitt's eyes with his own, brilliantly inhuman gaze. "As to why I am here – what better way to discover Cloud's weaknesses than to witness them first-hand, while fighting by his side? As long as Cloud is here, I will remain also. That my – research – may have a benefit to you is a consequence of little importance. The irony of playing the hero once more amuses me. Surely you are not so proud, little scholar, as to disdain my help?"

Kitt didn't know how to answer. "But..." She shook her head. The words were harsh, but the outcome, the benefit of his willing aid was... A cold, cruel smile fleeted across Sephiroth's lips. Kitt recalled that one of Sephiroth's favorite pastimes, that is when he wasn't plotting the genocide of all humans and/or the total destruction of his world, was to torment Cloud mentally. "Has the fighting been so boring for you, then, that you must take pleasure in needling me?" Kitt asked, cursing that her voice wavered at the end, openly displaying her fear.

"The challenges have become routine," Sephiroth allowed. "And yes, I must hone my weapons if they are to remain keen enough to cut Cloud. You are a convenient whetstone, against which I sharpen my words and mind-play, I suppose. But perhaps, –" Where Sephiroth paused to breathe and the cadence of his words indicated that he was about to launch his demeaning 'title' for her.

"If you call me 'little scholar' again, I'll claw your eyes out!" Kitt hissed.

Sephiroth threw back his head and laughed. "Ah, that I would like to see!" He leaned in very close, and narrowed his eyes as all teasing dropped from his manner. "Do not presume that the outcome of such an ill-advised attempt at an attack would be anything but disastrous – for you. It serves my purpose to help you, for now, and perhaps you are discovering that all things are not as black and white as the words in the pages of your books have led you to believe. Villains may be affable, perhaps even kind (not me, of course) and heroes can often be bitchy. Best to learn that lesson now, before you mistake one for the other."

Kitt shook her head. Sephiroth was saying all the villainous things, but in such a way that it was as if he were trying to help her – in a totally ass-backward sort of way. She wasn't about to forget that he was a villain to the core, the fact that Aerith could stand to be near him was to Kitt's mind a testament to the absolute heroism of the flower girl, but...

While she was still pondering, trying to run the thread of her Sephiroth-disarrayed thoughts to some logical end, a hellacious roaring made her cover her ears against the sonic assault and look up. She had only a scant impression of something huge, and black, and swift diving straight down at her before Sephiroth reacted, scooped her in his arms and dove out of the path of the descending monster. He flung her out of his arms into a controlled roll as he regained his feet and drew his weapon. True to the contradictory actions he'd taken since joining her team, he positioned himself not only between Kitt and the monster that she recognized as a huge, inky-black dragon (of a sort she'd never seen or read about before), but the camp as well.

"Go, get the others to safety. Send the dragoon, that Cetra girl and Cloud. He should witness how I handle this overgrown lizard. Go!"

Kitt dashed off at Sephiroth's command without thinking, though it went against her nature to leave anyone, even an enigma like Sephiroth, facing such a fearsome foe alone. She understood his reasoning, leading the monster back toward the camp was out of the question as that's where the injured were. The sooner she got to camp, the sooner she could send others to help battle the beast and perhaps find the way forward. Sure enough, once she'd returned to the others, she was able to discern the shimmering door that evidently only she could see, and open the way to the next Record. She took the scarcest moment to glance and realize this doorway opened into the Hall of Records in the Royal Archive itself, rather than directly into another Record, but couldn't spare the time to wonder why. She stammered off the names of the heroes Sephiroth had asked for as she hurried to usher the others through the doorway. "Uhm, everyone, just stay put. I'll – _we'll_ be back soon! All of us!" Kitt hoped the heroes would stay in the corridor and not wander too far or try to open the doors to the other Records, but she couldn't leave with them and risk stranding the heroes fighting against the dragon here. They had never been attacked after the final fight that saved a Record before.

She could hear the battle long before she could see it. The dragon had knocked down a stand of trees in its initial diving charge at them, but it seemed as though the battle, even though she'd made her way back as quickly as possible, had done significant additional damage already.

"Geez. Couldn't you keep it from destroying the whole forest? I thought you said you had this!" Kitt exclaimed.

Sephiroth shot an incredulous look at her before evidently realizing that she was daring to tease him. "Perhaps I should have requested that paladin you favor so much instead of this useless Soldier," Sephiroth retorted.

Cloud didn't deign to reply with words, instead landing a particularly vicious blow on the beast. Kain followed up with a solid Double Jump, but staggered on the landing. Kitt stopped analyzing the battle then, focusing a Curaga on the wounded dragoon, even as Aerith tagged Cloud with a Haste spell. Sephiroth didn't wait for one of the healers to tend to him, opting instead to replenish his vitality with a Drain spell. "We need to assault it from all angles," Sephiroth said. "Around," he glanced at Cloud. "Above," this look was aimed at Kain. "And through," he pointed his left thumb toward his own chest.

"Got it," Cloud said, as Kain nodded and crouched.

"I'd feel sorry for the dragon, except for all the trees it destroyed," Aerith said, pulling Kitt off to one side away from the active fighters. "It doesn't belong here," she added.

"The dragon is from another realm?" Kitt asked, watching as Cloud began his multi-directional Sonic Break. Kain was already aloft, just reaching the apex of his Double Jump, and Sephiroth's form was starting to blur as it always did during his Oblivion strike.

"I don't think it's from any realm," Aerith replied. "Or at least not any that we've visited so far," she concluded. "That's done it. The trees are avenged."

But, the dragon didn't fall in defeat. It bugled in distress and somehow managed to spring into the air on its ruined wings. It dripped black blood as it flew away as swiftly as it could. Something white fluttered to the ground after it. Curious, Kitt walked over and picked it up. It was paper, neatly folded. Kitt unfolded the paper, and reeled. She would have fallen to the ground except for Aerith's sudden grasp on her arm.

 _You have interfered for the last time. The so-called heroes can't save you, neither can Dr. Mog or Engineer Cid. Prepare. My next attack won't be thwarted quite so easily. I'll draw you out, soon enough. Your search for knowledge ends soon, Apprentice Record Keeper Kitt._

Author's note –

I'm not exactly sure where Sephiroth is trying to go with this. It's strange to have included him in the game the way they did – as he is an absolute villain, with no need or desire for 'redemption'. How weird would it be for Aerith to fight alongside him? He killed her, after all! I suppose Sephiroth is faintly smirking that his mind games, so perfected against Cloud, are working on a _player_. I could have just pared this down to the fight scene, I suppose, but, in the past, when a character hijacks part of a story in the way that Sephiroth does, and yet still remains in character (albeit tenuously) it seems to make for a more interesting plot arc that what I had anticipated. I have to admit that the plot arc I have is as sketchy as the game, so why not take Sephiroth's little mind detour and see where it goes? Hopefully it leads somewhere interesting, rather than devolving into an Out Of Character representation of one of the more complex and polarizing villains of Final Fantasy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Six**

"All this..." Kitt surveyed the destroyed woods. "just to get at me?" she whispered, crumbling the disturbing note and throwing it away as if she could elude the threat contained therein.

"No," Cloud shook his head. "It was just to show what he can do." Cloud retrieved the note but hung onto it himself at Kitt's slightly betrayed expression.

"A boast – 'look at me'," Aerith added as she leveled a very neutral gaze at Sephiroth.

"Not a boast. More of a calling card. Fear and tremble at what I can do," Sephiroth clarified, staring, in his turn, at Cloud.

"Do you see me trembling?" Cloud retorted.

"She is," Kain noted, nodding at Kitt. "Perhaps we should leave this battleground and meet up with the others."

Kitt nodded and started picking he way through the debris. She wasn't having a whole lot of success as her staff didn't have an edge to cut the branches out of the way to make a path much less allow her to do anything other than try to climb over, around, or under the many fallen tree trunks. Additionally, she was significantly shorter than the others so that only Aerith could begin to follow and even she had to try to widen the path with her staff to pass.

Sephiroth surveyed the slightly silly situation, let loose three deliberate, precise sword cuts, that were startling close as far as Kitt was concerned, and created enough of an opening to walk past the two girls and take the lead. Kitt could have sworn she heard an exasperated sigh to match the aggrieved expression on the swordsman's face as he strode past her.

Kitt looked up in shock at the others and just barely caught a smile on Kain's face. "You better not be laughing at me!"

Kain shook his head, and modulated his smile into a rueful look. "While his method was rude and dismissive, it may have been necessary if we are to quit these woods before nightfall. You are a capable leader, but in this case, Sephiroth is better equipped to forge the quickest path for all of us."

"I really hate it when I'm defeated by logic," Kitt groused. "But you're right. Still!" She huffed out a sigh.

True to form, Sephiroth didn't slow down so the others could keep up, but he did create a decent and easy enough to follow path for the others.

"I sense a story behind Sephiroth's comment about a calling card," Kain noted.

Kitt nodded. She sometimes forgot that her traveling companions didn't have the detailed knowledge about each other that she did. She might not be – no, she knew she wasn't – the strongest, fastest, most skilled at summoning, healing, crafting spells, really any of it, but what she did have that the others didn't, _her_ unique skill, was her knowledge. Each hero knew his or her own story, and at least part of the stories of his or her friends, and even enemies, but only Kitt had it all. She still wasn't sure what this perspective gave her, or how she was to use it to help save her kingdom, but she'd realized that was her 'gift'.

"You guys were referring to the Midgar Zolom, right?" Kitt prodded. As a Record Keeper, she was in a unique position to actual hear one of the stories detailed in a manuscript from the perspective of those who lived it. Such an opportunity was not to be squandered.

"Oh, at that time, we were following the Man in the Black Cape. That's what we called Sephiroth back then. We didn't know it was him, not for certain – Sephiroth was rumored to be dead," Aerith began.

"Well, he _was_ dead," Cloud added. "The Man in the Black Cape was, and was not, Sephiroth."

Kitt nodded, as that tracked with the story she'd read, but Kain was skeptical. "Clarify," Kain demanded.

"That will take quite a bit longer than the time remaining on this little hike," Cloud said, judging the distance they still had to walk. "Sephiroth was the will behind the actions the Man in the Black Cape took."

Kain dropped his head in a gesture that Kitt realized was the dragoon's tell when he was surprised or dismayed by something. It was his way to hide his expression and his feelings from others.

"It is a very convoluted story, if what I have read is accurate, but, well, what happened with Sephiroth, and the Clones, and the JENOVA Reunion – Kain, there are some similarities, but it's not the same as what Golbez did with you." She considered. "Actually, you and Cloud have some surprising commonalities in your histories. It might be helpful to discuss them, away from the others, at some point. But for now, Aerith, would you please continue? I am fascinated to hear this from your point of view."

"Better than reading it in a book, hmm?" Cloud asked.

"Much!"

"The Midgar Zolom is a type of giant serpent living in the marshlands. They are very fast, very aggressive, and very dangerous. It took – all we had – to beat one, and it very nearly wiped us out. Once we made it past the marsh that was full of them, we came to a clearing – not too unlike the one we camped in, though it was surrounded by mountains. Impaled on the trunk of a very tall tree was a dead Midgar Zolom." Aerith shook her head in bemusement. "To this day that is still one of the more horrific and gruesome spectacles I've ever seen."

"I don't understand. Is that how Sephiroth defeated the serpent?" Kain asked.

Cloud shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I believe he staged it that way after he killed it as a boast or a warning that he could take on the monster single-handedly – some sort of display, for us. I think he knew we were following him at that point."

Kain seemed a bit taken aback. "Senseless cruelty..."

"That just about sums Sephiroth up in two words," Aerith agreed.

"The sheer power to defeat a Midgar Zolom without help, and then have enough strength to hoist it to the top of a tree..." Cloud shook his head in a gesture much like Aerith's. "Not only was it impressive, but it showed a sort of depraved mentality, too."

"Well, you are the expert on depraved mentalities, aren't you, Cloud?" Sephiroth asked in a deceptively mild tone. Without realizing it, the party had joined up with Sephiroth at the old camp site.

"I'm just relieved you didn't jam that dragon onto a tree back there as a testament to your power," Cloud replied.

" _That_ dragon managed to escape and fly off, or I might have. There were enough suitable tree trunks after the battle," Sephiroth stated, staring flatly into Cloud's eyes before stalking silently off to one side to stand by himself.

"Yeah, well, we better meet up with the others. Now, where was that door?" Kitt mused, disliking the tension between Cloud and Sephiroth, and mildly alarmed that she was sensing tension from Kain, too. Strangely enough, the one person she expected to have animosity toward Sephiroth, that is Aerith, seemed to be taking his presence in stride. "Ah, there it is!"

Kitt opened the door and was immediately relieved that it showed the same scene as before, when she rushed the rest of the heroes through. "Come on, everyone. This is where I left everyone else." She anxiously tried to herd everyone through the door quickly, which seemed to earn her amused glances from nearly everyone. "I wonder what Dr. Mog is going to make of all this," she fretted as she stepped through after Cloud (who refused to turn his back on Sephiroth, forcing the swordsman to go through first).

"Dr. Mog has made some headway making sense of the disaster you dumped in his lap, kupo," Dr. Mog claimed, bobbing in the air in front of her.

"Wha-what?"

Kitt had to admit that Dr. Mog had done just that. He'd already sent the apprentice Record Keepers to their homes for their own safety for the duration of the emergency, promising to summon all of them back once the Great Chronicle was secure once more. He had spent some time interviewing the heroes Kitt had sent through before going back to help in the fight against the dragon. From those interviews, he had gathered that it was not easy for all of them to be traipsing through the realms en masse.

Dr. Mog commandeered one of the now-empty apprentice dorms for the heroes' use. It seemed to have everything they needed – beds and personal facilities, a mess hall, recreational areas, and lockers for each person. One of the study halls had been converted to a magical work room for the mages to store and create spells with the orbs they kept finding during their travels. Cid had managed to finagle some 'excess' orbs from the mages with promises of improving their weapons and armor, and some of the others had also requested orbs so they could use them to enhance their melee and fighting abilities.

"See? This way you can take along the heroes you need, instead of having to set up a base camp somewhere for everyone, then figure out where you need to go, select those who can help – it makes more sense to have a central base camp, kupo? And all the Records link here in the Hall of Doors so it should make things much easier."

"It does. Thank you," Kitt nodded and nearly fell over.

"When did you last sleep? Don't answer that, kupo. I can tell when you've studied too long, and this is no different," Dr. Mog said.

"It's very diff'rent," Kitt claimed. "Way more physical than reading all night."

"The women's dorm is over here," Dr. Mog floated toward one doorway. "Or you could go to your own room, kupo."

Kitt shook her head. "No, I should stay with the others. They are displaced from their worlds, trying to help us; the least I can do is stay with them while we figure it all out," Kitt said as she turned the knob, opened the door and entered the room. She barely heard the greetings from everyone before a bed beckoned and lured her with the siren song of sleep.

Author's note –

In some of my fanfic, there is one character who likes to take center stage. It's usually not the character I want to write about, and it seems this story is no exception. In other stories Dracula and Seto Kaiba have been 'that' character, and it seems Sephiroth is doing that here. With any luck *crosses fingers* I can start taking this story into a bit more of the direction _I_ want to take it. (I"m only the writer, you one-winged angel – why don't you fly off and molt somewhere else and leave me alone! . )

I hadn't intended to bring the heroes to the Hall of Doors or the Record Keeper kingdom itself, but this should make writing a bit easier as I will be able to focus on the five or so who are 'active' in the field instead of trying to keep track of dozens of characters all at once. As usual, I hope that this story arc makes sense to those reading, even if it's not entirely in agreement with the game.


	7. Chapter 7

Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Seven

Kitt leaned her elbows on the railing of the balcony. From this vantage point, she could view the main hall of the dormitory. She could have been watching the gathered heroes, noticing some of the unusual conversation groups, or taking stock of how the people helping her in her quest were doing. Instead, she was staring off into space, thinking.

"You seem distracted. Anything I can help with?" Someone asked from behind her.

"How is it when you sneak up behind me it doesn't startle me into jumping the way it does when it's Sephiroth?" Kitt smiled and turned around.

Dark Knight Cecil smiled back. "Probably because I can't move as silently as Sephiroth in a suit of full armor."

Kitt lifted an eyebrow and gave him a skeptical look. "Oh? What armor?"

Cecil smiled at that. Cid had insisted Cecil permit him to examine and perform the minor repairs that armor that had been in so many battles lately needed. "How did you realize it's the more shadowed me and not my paladin self?" Cecil opened his arms to indicate his current attire of trousers and tunic. Not a thing about him indicated 'Dark Knight'.

"Hmm, good question. It's not as if you have any sort of different appearance from Paladin Cecil." Kitt fell into the usual method used to indicate which aspect of the warrior one was speaking about adopted by everyone as she looked out over the balcony and sought him with her eyes. "That's odd," she said when she spied him. Dark Knight Cecil joined her at the railing. "No, I take that back. It would be odd if you had selected different clothes." Sure enough, Paladin Cecil wore the same outfit, in the same muted colors, that Dark Knight Cecil did. "It's not like your tastes changed when you suddenly became a paladin; moreover, right now you are basically the same person anyway. Sort of."

Cecil nodded. "Sort of. Mostly. Still, it is interesting that you can tell at a glance which one of me I am. I wonder what gives me away?"

"Nothing I can describe – you are really the same, in spirit. Maybe it's the touch of your skills?" Kitt shook her head with the weakness of that statement. "There is a sense of shadows around you. Not that you're melancholy or that your spirit is dark, just – perhaps you are just closer to the shadow end of things that your other self, that's all."

"Interesting that you should mention 'spirit'. I have a question to ask you about that. You were in discussion with Dr. Mog and Cid for a long time earlier – were you perhaps discussing – us? That is, those of us who have appeared from other worlds?"

 _Oh, I don't really want to talk about this with him, or any of them. It's too strange and I don't want to dishearten them or make them doubt themselves..._ Aloud she said, "yes. You were the main topic of conversation."

"I suspected so. Have the doctor and Cid come to any conclusions? Perhaps they can explain some of the differences that we've noticed."

"What do you mean?" Kitt asked.

"My twin-self enjoys being able to protect everyone with his Rampart skill, but he would much prefer to be able to interpose himself and take the blow for a weaker companion instead, as he is used to on my world. The sense of the skill is the same, protecting others, but the mechanics of it are different. Then there's the fact that none of us, including the spell casters, can seem to keep more than two skills in mind at the same time. It's a handicap for those of us who are more physical and melee-oriented, but downright crippling for the spell casters. Rydia, for instance. Normally, she can call to mind all of her spells and summon any one of her Eidolon friends as long as she's well-rested and has the mental vigor to do so. Now, she's reduced to two spells only. It's very like what Tellah suffered, but without Tellah's random and sometimes helpful ability to recall a forgotten spell from time to time."

Kitt nodded. She wasn't surprised that Cecil had made the comparison to Tellah.

Cecil continued. "So Rydia, out of all her capability to summon Eidolons, and all of her magical acumen, must settle for only two and hope they are the right ones. In some of the deeper dungeons, there's also the problem of the limited number of times she can call a spell to mind before forgetting it entirely between rests. It's somewhat annoying to me – this strange, timed amnesia, but completely vexing for her, and I suspect all of our primarily magic-using companions."

Kitt struggled with her thoughts. It seemed as if the heroes knew that something was 'off' about them, but... She smiled, as she was once more faced with the same dilemma, and with the same person, for the same reason. Cecil was asking for knowledge; Kitt had the answers; but she wasn't sure if sharing that knowledge was the right thing to do. This time, it wasn't a matter of trust, more a matter of advisability. If Dr. Mog's theory was correct, and Kitt shared it with Cecil, it might disturb him so much that he wouldn't want to help anymore. Then there was the possibility that the theory pointed toward a danger even greater than the one threatening her world – all of their worlds could be at risk.

"It's – a hard concept to wrap one's mind around (I'm still struggling with it) and it is all about who you really are. It could be distressing to you, if I were to share Dr. Mog's theory." Kitt shook her head in emphasis. "I wouldn't want to distress you, any of you, in the least way."

"I suspect that's not just because we are helping you with the battles," Cecil observed softly.

"Of course not! I mean, I would be lost without the help, but that's not the only reason. You are the Heroes of the Records, and you are here, in my world; I'm able to travel and talk with you, even fight alongside you, and listen to your exploits and gain wisdom and knowledge from you directly." Kitt shook her head again. "I'm not going to take that for granted, or risk it in any way!"

Cecil smiled. It was a rather sweet smile, but touched with a sense of sadness.

"What?" Kitt asked, wondering what she had said to cause such a sad smile.

"Oh, it is a bit selfish of me. I could have approached as my paladin self to ask my question." He nodded down toward his other manifestation, who immediately nodded back, knowing, as always, what the dark aspect of his shared being was doing. "But there is something about being accepted so easily, and so completely by someone even though this unidentifiable sense of shadow clings to me."

"Rosa always accepted you," Kitt noted. "So did the King of Baron and Kain for that matter. Cid, well, your Cid, too."

Cecil nodded. "And the young boy in Baron." His smile deepened at his memory. "If he were as frightened as he claimed, why did he always approach whenever I went to the town?"

Kitt smiled wryly. "Haven't you proven that under it all you are still the paladin? No, you are, as both dark knight and paladin, _Cecil_ under it all."

Cecil's smile lightened with something like relief and triumph. "You have just set my heart at ease, Kitt. Please tell me Dr. Mog's theory. I am certain, no matter how distressing you believe it might be, that I can bear it."

"Where does this certainty come from?" Kitt wondered.

"I had a fear, that I am unable to discuss with you, but that has been allayed. If you believe that I am truly 'Cecil under it all', no matter how strange the theory might be, I can bear it. And, it might help explain why all of us feel so – constrained from our normal selves."

After only a moment of internal dithering, Kitt replied. "Dr. Mog postulates that you aren't really the Heroes of the Records. That you aren't Cecil Harvey, as either dark knight or paladin, taken from your world, and transported through time and space here, to help us," Kitt said.

Cecil nodded thoughtfully, and indicated Kitt should continue.

"I told him that you were – that is, are. You _are_ Cecil. You are not just fighting skills – you are... There's such a depth to you, to all of you, that I know you are real, you are people – the people you believe you are, not just puppets who think they are the heroes running some program," Kitt raced through her disjointed explanation of the theory that distressed her.

"What does Dr. Mog think we are?" Cecil asked carefully. He remembered that Dr. Mog had obliquely asked him not to discuss anything about Dissidia with Kitt. The thought had crossed his mind that perhaps he, and the others, were Manikins, such as were found in Dissidia, but he had dismissed that notion immediately. He was too much himself, despite feeling constrained whenever he fought, to believe that he was merely a magical construct.

"Well, he said that the Great Chronicle is ours – that is, an artifact of our world. But, the Great Chronicle is made up of the individual Records of you heroes, your exploits, and your worlds. The Great Chronicle is threatened because someone is damaging the Records," Kitt began.

"So, Dr. Mog believes that we are here to protect them – defend our Records against this threat?" Cecil asked.

"Yes. He thinks that you, well, your spirits, were somehow alerted to this threat to your Records, and that is why you are here." Kitt dropped her head. "My fear is that if you are here to defend your Records, it's because it's not just _our_ Great Chronicle that's at stake. Dr. Mog can't reassure me that if we fail _your_ Records are safe." She looked up. "It could well be that your worlds are in just as much danger as mine; that failure to restore even one Record will wash back into the world it's from and change history. I fear that if one of you should fall here, your spirit won't return to your world, but that it may be lost – forever."

"That is a lot of responsibility, and fear, and worry, for one person to bear. Just recall that even though each of us feels oddly constrained, we do have our experiences in our individual worlds, our skills, and our friends. As long as we continue to try, as long as we work together, I am certain we will succeed." Cecil regarded the despondent Record Keeper. "Kitt!"

Kitt looked up, startled, at Cecil's firm tone. " _When_ we succeed, won't you feel silly for making yourself so miserable with worry?"

Kitt smiled. There was an endearing sort of arrogance in Cecil's attitude. It wasn't often that he displayed it, preferring to defer to those who were truly arrogant, but it was there. Perhaps it was in all the heroes. Perhaps that belief was part of what made a person a hero in the first place.

"If you don't believe we can succeed, you have no place leading us. You have no place in the fight," Cecil observed. That rocked Kitt back with its harsh judgement. She admitted it was true. She had to believe that they could succeed, or they would surely fail. "You are worried that if we fail to defend our Records here, their destruction here will doom our worlds. That concern might well be justified. Maybe it's an unintended effect of basing your Great Chronicle on our Records. But, better for us to be in this together, fighting together to defend the Records to save the Chronicle than to remain ignorant about the danger and try to stay 'safe' in our individual worlds. Even if Dr. Mog or Cid had a way to send us back, I am certain that none of us would consider it, knowing that we are leaving such a burden entirely upon your shoulders."

"Cecil..."

Cecil paced away from the balcony. He cupped his chin and stared down at Kitt. "So, in a nutshell, Dr. Mog is fairly certain that we aren't really the heroes, somehow brought through time and space from our worlds to yours. You are convinced that we are ourselves, in spirit, a position I am inclined to agree with. No one is certain what agency summoned our spirits here, but it may be that not only is your Great Chronicle and the peace of your world at risk, but that the destruction of our individual Records here may have adverse effects in our worlds as well."

Kitt nodded. "Yes, that pretty much sums everything up."

"Not quite. If we weren't brought here, if we aren't actually the heroes we believe ourselves to be, what _are_ we?"

"Living Records," Cid answered. "I am sure of it, after examining your armor."

"So, our spirits are inhabiting what amounts to paintings of ourselves. It is why some of our skills have changed, and why we can only do a few of the things we usually can. There's a limit as to how much our spirits are able to manifest and do within the medium they are currently contained in." Paladin Cecil had drawn Kain aside for a quiet discussion. He knew everything Dark Knight Cecil knew as soon as Dark Knight Cecil knew it and decided to share the information with his best friend.

"So we are ink – and canvas – and paint?" Kain asked incredulously, staring down at his own hand that sure seemed like flesh and blood to him.

"Cid supposes that if our spirits were to depart the living Record that's what it would become, but as that would most likely indicate a final defeat, let's not risk proving it, shall we?" Cecil replied.

"I suppose you are taking this all in stride, as it's no weirder than being in two places at once, and being your dark knight and paladin selves at the same time and fighting next to yourself, heck, your whole mystical transformation from dark knight to paladin in the first place is bizarre – but it's creeping me out," Kain admitted.

"I'm not as sanguine as you give me credit for. I am still not sure if we should share this information with the others. Rydia is hanging on by the merest thread as it is."

"Her sense of self and her place in the world is rather shaky right now," Kain agreed. "Right now we are just living Records... It is disturbing knowledge. Perhaps we should keep it between us two, or three?" Kain glanced at Cecil for clarification.

"Two if you are speaking of you and me, and me; three if you are including Kitt in your count."

"I say it again, you are utterly weird! You're just lucky that you've got a few handy skills in your arsenal," Kain declared.

"At least I don't have to become an armored grasshopper to be useful in a fight," Cecil retorted.

"Hey!"

Author's note –

Yay to lots of Cecil-age! *Happy fan-girl squeeing!* I even managed to sneak in a bit of Kain-age (but alas, no carnage). Sorry for the 'talking heads' aspect of this chapter, but I have to try to make some sense of why the characters are so limited from what is the norm for them in their own games. WE know it's just the Record Keeper game mechanics, but in the story I feel compelled to find a narrative reason. I also wanted to hearken back to the game teasers and the beginning of the game where it seemed clear to me that the heroes are called to defend their Records. The game doesn't tell us how they were called, so I've had the room to figure out an answer to that question myself.

This chapter did get longer than I anticipated, but as I'm winging it at it is, I'm not going to worry about it. I intend to check in on some of the other characters in the next chapter while they are still at the new base camp, but really want to get some of them back into the field by the end.


	8. Chapter 8

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Eight**

"Dammit!" Rydia clutched both hands to her head and slumped to her knees next to the path. "Why can't I do this?! Even when I actually was a child, I could cast many spells before having to rest and study."

Kain strode across the grassy field, leaned over and offered a hand.

"What do you want?" Rydia asked crossly.

"I want to help you up from the ground, then I want to speak with you."

"About what?"

"About what is happening and how it is frustrating you."

"What do you care?" Rydia turned her head away from the dragoon and looked at the nearest spire on the Royal Archive in the distance. She had decided to find a secluded place in the park next to the Royal Archive to practice her magic and cursed to herself that she evidently hadn't put enough distance between herself and the others.

Kain reflected that of all the people he'd traveled with during the pivotal time on his world, he had never been able to forge a friendship with Rydia. Amity, for the sake of their mutual friends, but actual friendship, no. It made sense, upon reflection. His first meeting with Rydia had been catastrophic for the girl. He had contributed to her mother's death directly, by slaying the Mist Dragon who was paired to the summoner. As if that weren't enough of a blow, the Carnelian Signet Cecil had been charged with bringing to Mist had released its magical bombs and destroyed her village. Kain recalled that he tested Cecil's blind obedience to fulfilling his duty to their king by suggesting that they should kill the girl – while in front of Rydia. Then, in a completely misguided attempt to comfort the grieving child by assuming responsibility for her safety, he and Cecil had chased her. Rydia might not have been scared of dragons, as her mother routinely summoned one, but having an armored man clad in dragon mail, and a bona fide dark knight chase her directly after the damage they'd just wreaked in her life would surely be the stuff of nightmares.

As if that first meeting hadn't been traumatic enough, when Rydia and Kain next encountered each other, he was firmly in Golbez's camp. To this day he wasn't sure how much of his behavior was due to manipulative mind control and how much was due to his desire to follow his own dark impulses. Be that as it may, Cecil had proven that he was, despite his fearsome appearance, gentle and kind, and concerned for Rydia's welfare, while Kain had been a consummate bastard.

"I care," he responded simply.

Rydia regarded the dragoon. "Look, I know that what happened with my mom and Mist wasn't your fault, and you have to be a decent person or Cecil wouldn't be friends with you..."

Kain interrupted her so smoothly, Rydia couldn't even bristle at him. "It's frustrating, isn't it, to find yourself so limited here with what is so easy back in our world? And you have the additional burden of appearing as a child when you are not in mind and heart a young girl. Cecil seems to be taking his unusual situation in stride as well. I am relieved that I am not subject to any difficulties such as you and Cecil are dealing with – aside from my limited access to my abilities."

Rydia blinked up at him. Even when she was her normal, full-grown self, she still had to look up to see Kain's face, as the dragoon was so much taller than she was. He didn't speak much, at least as far as she recalled, and even then any comments that weren't directly about the business of battling or exploring had been dryly sarcastic. She never understood why someone as deep-down nice as Cecil claimed dour Kain as his friend. That Cecil still regarded Kain as his friend, after the dragoon had snubbed him by refusing to attend his wedding and coronation, was beyond her.

"I know you have no reason to like me, trust me even, but I can't stand by and watch you get so frustrated, perhaps to the point of hurting yourself, over this. Rydia, even when you were a child, you had nothing to prove to me. Your skills, and what you have done with them, are most impressive."

Rydia balled her hands into fists and shrieked up at him. "Stop patronizing me! You're not the one who's a _child_! You're not the one _everyone_ is looking down on! I can't – I _won't_ let anyone down because I'm reduced to _this_ again. I _will_ figure out how to use my magic as I should, or _die_ trying!"

Kain seemed taken aback by her sudden tirade. For all that Rydia retained her adult mind and memories, that mind was currently forced to express itself through a child-like form and the normal frustrations of childhood often drove even the most amenable child in to tantrums and tirades.

 _She's not a child, even though she looks like one. Treating her according to the outburst and her appearance will only deepen the rift between us. Best for me to ignore it, and address the Rydia behind the manifestation, the one who knows she's an adult and is craving the acknowledgment and respect that deserves,_ Kain said to himself. He crossed his arms, and lowered his chin fractionally, using his stylized helmet as a way to force Rydia to meet the dragon's gaze. To anyone else, particularly one who was a child, the action would be threatening, but Kain knew Rydia knew that _he_ knew such an action was comforting to her, an acknowledgment that she had grown up with the presence of an actual dragon in her life, and that now she could summon them to help her at will.

Sure enough an instinctive smile crept across her lips. "Damn you," she said incongruously. "How did you figure that out about me?"

"I, too, counted a dragon among my friends in my childhood," Kain admitted. "To one who cares for dragons, there is nothing daunting in a dragon's direct gaze."

Rydia considered that. Oh, she knew about Richard Highwind's wyvern, but it was assumed that the dragon had died after its master had perished. Perhaps she did have a few – very minor – things in common with the gloomy dragoon after all. She sighed in resignation. "Okay, yeah, it's frustrating me. I can sense the magic is there, I just – can't – quite – reach it. I don't understand why I have to meditate on my spells now by gazing into an orb instead of just the mental recall that I've used – since I actually was a child. It's very – weird."

Kain inclined his head in a gesture that Rydia took to mean he wanted her to follow him, and walked along the path that meandered alongside the woods next to the complex of buildings. He walked toward a bench that was placed across the path from a small garden. He removed his helmet, placed it on the bench, and sat next to it, wrapping his arms around the knee he drew up toward his chest.

Rydia lifted an eyebrow and launched a sly grin at him. "I've never seen you act this casual – ever!" she declared.

"Sadly, I wasn't in my right mind most of the time I was in your company," Kain replied evenly. "But that is a discussion for another time, if you wish. For now, I would like to help allay your frustration."

"How?"

"We could spar. That way you can see if you can change spells on the fly, without it being during the pressure of actual combat and without meditating on an ability orb. Perhaps that concern has been blocking you," Kain suggested.

"Spar? With you? Yeah, not so much. I might be able to cast White Magic again, but not as well as a dedicated mage; my rod would barely dent that armor; my whip would be even less useful; and while I might have a chance to start a spell that you could perhaps even feel, there's little to no chance I'd complete it before you pounced on me like a giant armored cat!" Rydia retorted.

Kain sighed and shook his head. "Armored cat? I guess that's better than what our favorite paladin said earlier. Cecil accused me of being a grasshopper. Truly, the lofty calling of dragoon does not receive the renown it is due..."

Rydia giggled at Kain's wryly exaggerated melancholy.

"But you do bring up several valid points. Cecil and I can spar because our skills and armor are on the same level. You magely types with your symbol-covered robes and ornately carved and gilded sticks are quite a bit more – squishy."

"Squishy!?" Rydia exclaimed. "You wanna fry in that tin carapace you call armor, turtle-man?!"

"Turtle-...?" Kain shook his head. "What sort of menagerie do all of you believe me to be? Every animal under the sun aside from the one my armor is designed to represent!" Kain looked up as movement caught his attention. "Hoy, there!"

White Mage was walking up the path toward them and looked up at Kain's call. "Yes? Did you need something?"

"Yes, yes we do. Rydia and I would like to train. Could we ask you to watch as we spar and cure as needed?"

Rydia looked around. "We should probably find a better spot. We don't want to ruin the flowers."

"There's a clearing back the way I came. Would that do?" White Mage asked.

"Admirably," Kain replied.

In some ways the spear, that was Kain's weapon of choice, was far superior to a sword. It had excellent reach and when wielded properly could focus all of a warrior's strength into the sharp tip, which could be used to pierce even the strongest mail. In a dragoon's hands, a spear was even more versatile, able to be used for slashing as well as stabbing and dizzyingly swift attacks that came from unexpected angles, and thus were hard to defend against.

The sword had its advantages though – such as now. A sword could be used in sparring matches because a warrior could elect to use the flat instead of the edge without distorting the method of attack as much as a spear-wielder would. A sword could also be rendered less harmful by using the sheath, or wrapping the blade edge to decrease its lethality.

Kain elected not to try to wrap the tip of his spear because even the tiniest extra drag of air along the edge would tamper with his fine control. It could be more dangerous to try to render his weapon less likely to injure than to rely on his skill to pull or re-target an attack.

As they sparred, with the White Mage standing on the sidelines and casting curing spells every so often, Kain admitted that while Rydia might be as 'squishy' as other mages, she was a smart opponent. The third time he set his weight in preparation to Jump and attack her from above – and she messed up that attack with a precisely timed Quake spell – he knew it wasn't just luck. She was using every nuance of battle to her advantage.

She'd run him down with her Chocobo several times. She'd Quaked him nearly off his feet several times in addition to the three that ruined his Jump attempts. "Come at me with normal attacks – nothing fancy and no Jumps. I want to try something," Rydia asked.

Kain complied. He wasn't sure what she was trying to do. Terrific strain showed on her face as she weakly dodged his attacks, or tried to block or deflect them with her rod. After several moments where Rydia's expression reflected actual pain, a baby fireball appeared and fizzled out just before it reached him.

Rydia collapsed. Kain Jumped then, but not to attack, as he dropped his spear before leaping. He used his Jump to get to her side, catch her, and keep her from crashing into the ground.

"You nearly had it. I saw your Fire spell," Kain said.

"Nearly isn't good enough," Rydia retorted bitterly.

"It is far better than what any of us have managed to do. The two skill limit seems inviolable."

"Woo!" Rydia exclaimed, right before she passed out in Kain's arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Nine**

Tifa and Aerith turned away from checking in with White Mage about Rydia. The Summoner girl was still resting after straining herself to the point of exhaustion trying to cast magic. All of the healing spellcasters took turns sitting with her and making certain she was resting and recovering. Aerith opened the cabinet where the women keep most of the gear they had amassed on their journey so far.

"So, is this completely weird for you?" Tifa asked Aerith. "I mean, it's kinda cruel to make you fight alongside Sephiroth."

"No, I don't mind. I know the reason is important," Aerith replied serenely. She carried a box across the room and set it on the desk under the window.

"B-but...!"

Aerith opened the case in front of her and searched for the proper size and aura of the orbs they needed. "I could not be the – well, the avatar for Lifestream had Sephiroth not killed me. I do more for the Planet and the people and animals, plants, rocks, trees, mako, materia, all of it – from within Lifestream than I ever could have done had I remained alive." She handed a few of the orbs to Tifa to carry. "Still... Is it selfish of me to admit I miss that limited life? To just be a girl who can tease or kiss the guy she likes – or gossip with the girls about how cute all the guys are..." She smiled.

"Aerith!" Tifa said with anguish in her voice. Though she hadn't spoken with Cloud about it, she had maintained a strictly professional demeanor around him out of deference to Aerith's feelings. There had been a time the love triangle was a light, wholesome diversion from the seriousness and horror of their adventure, but that light-heartedness had died when Aerith did. Tifa wasn't willing to heap anymore cruelty on her friend than this strange situation had already done.

"Oh, I'm not about to do anything. I just regret that I am no longer able to." Aerith's smile turned a bit sad. "Come on. Kitt is waiting." She opened the main door to the women's dormitory to find Kain on the other side, his left hand raised as if he were about to knock.

"Oh. Aerith? How is Rydia?" he asked.

"Wow!" Aerith replied. It had taken her a moment to recognize the dragoon as he was, for the first time she'd seen, not clad in draconian armor and sans helmet. "Such gorgeous hair!"

"Yes, yes," Kain sighed. He grabbed his loose hair and in three deft moves confined it in a ponytail.

"Aww!" Tifa complained.

Kain lowered his chin at her and semi-glared, even without his helmet reminding her of his 'stern dragon gaze' that this move usually accentuated. "Rydia?" he asked again, with a testier edge in his voice.

"Yup, he's a man on a mission, Tifa. We'd better give him what he wants," Aerith noted. "We are on our way out, but it's easy enough to find Rydia. She's in the back, the east room – down that hallway three doors on the right."

"Thank you," Kain assayed a slight, but very mocking, bow toward the two woman before following Aerith's directions.

"I know what I want him to want from me," Tifa said in a low voice. "Wow!"

Aerith turned to look Tifa full in the face. "Yes, Kain is rather gorgeous, but he can't compare to Cloud for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Tifa agreed. She always felt a bit strange – sad, and vaguely guilty whenever Aerith mentioned Cloud around her. "We should go."

"What's happened? What's wrong?" Kitt asked when Tifa and Aerith met her in the common room, sensing their somewhat somber air. "Is Rydia okay?"

"She's fine. She's still just resting. White Mage is looking after her," Aerith reassured her. She glanced at Tifa over Kitt's head and winked. "Kain stopped by to check on her. Isn't he sweet?"

Tifa got her friend's meaning, right away. It was sometimes hard to recall that while she was always kind, Aerith had a very determined and defined sense of humor. She'd gotten Cloud to cross-dress, after all! _Yeah, why not? 'Gossiping with the girls about all the cute guys'? That's something we can do, especially if it helps lighten the air – for all of us – but mostly for Aerith. I still worry about the strain it must be for her to fight alongside Sephiroth._ "Hmm, yes. Sweet. He's not the tallest of our pretty guys, that's Wakka, but he is sure easy on the eyes!"

"Only if you are lucky enough to catch a glimpse of him out of all his armor," Aerith claimed. "Am I right, Kitt; or am I right?"

"Hmm? I wonder if his hair is as soft as it looks. Cecil's looks as soft as moonlight," Kitt admitted dreamily. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh! I shouldn't...!" she mumbled.

"Why not? It's just us girls – the guys never need to know. Do you seriously think they haven't had – uhm, 'discussions' about various ones of our 'merits'?" Tifa noted.

"As if any of us have any chance of being noticed with you around!" Aerith claimed.

Kitt giggled.

"That's better. Now, you said you were going to show us what you do to create new ability orbs for us," Aerith said.

"We've got the components for a new Fire orb, right here," Tifa added. "To replace the one Rydia blew up."

"Sure, Cid's workroom is this way." Kitt had explained to everyone how she would take orbs, equipment, and the various materials they found in dungeons back here, to the core world, so to speak, to create new spells and abilities and improve their weapons and armor, based on what the others told her they needed. Kitt was the only one who could travel through the doors by herself. The others couldn't even see the doors until Kitt pointed them out.

"That was interesting," Tifa said a little while later. She was staring at Cid's Orb Processing Machine, wondering how it was a little orb would let her unleash a Death Strike on someone, a skill she could just use whenever she wanted on her world, but that here required she possess and meditate on an orb beforehand. Sure, in order to be able to cast magic in her world one needed a materia, but skills were skills – although, now that she thought about it, there were some skills that were contained in materia too. Still, Rydia said she didn't need anything like an orb or materia to cast magic in her world; and Celes and Terra claimed that once they learned spells from a Magicite they no longer needed to carry it around, so...

"Fire..." Kitt mused, a little while later. She was looking at the Fire orb Cid's machine had just created. She picked it up and cradled it between her hands. "Rydia had to overcome an understandable fear of fire in order to help her friends. Cecil destroyed her village with bombs that burned it down. Did you know that? And Sephiroth – he destroyed Nibelheim with fire. It's so – destructive."

Aerith took the ability orb out of Kitt's hands. "Any element is destructive when concentrated into a spell. It is what you do with that spell that determines if the element is used for good or ill."

Tifa nodded. "Yeah, when you light up an ice beast that's pounding on me, I'm glad you have concentrated fire at your fingertips!"

* * *

"Has Rydia wakened yet?" Kain asked. He stood at the door to the private room set aside for Rydia's recovery in women's dormitory. Tifa and Aerith had answered his knock permitting him access to the dormitory itself. A moment of a rather peculiar conversation revealed they were on their way out for an errand, as well as Rydia's whereabouts in the complex of rooms.

"No." The White Mage cast a searching gaze into his face. "You are concerned for her? Don't be. She merely rests; she sustained no physical injury."

"That would concern me, too, but it is the psychic hurt that worries me," Kain replied.

"Psychic hurt?"

"No, it's nothing. May I – see her? On my honor as a dragoon of..."

White Mage let loose a silvery laugh. "Oh, I know there is no need to be concerned about you on that score. You treat Rydia like a precious treasure. Enter, dragoon, and see her condition for yourself. Set your mind at ease."

Kain followed the amused White Mage into the room. He wondered at her assertion that he treated Rydia like a precious treasure – he'd attacked her fiercely enough when they had been sparring.

Rydia was curled on her side on one of the beds. She'd been covered by a light blanket even though a window allowed gentle sunlight to pour across her bed.

"We are sure she will wake soon. She just bruised her magical senses," White Mage explained.

"Ironic it should have been Fire that harmed her. Again," Kain noted softly. "And I was there. Again." Kain leaned over the bed to brush Rydia's hair away from her face. "Tears?" He turned toward White Mage. "She's been crying?"

White Mage approached the other side of the bed and placed her hand on Rydia's forehead. "I had not been aware of that. Her magical sense is recovering, but it must have pushed her into a nightmare."

"I have an idea what that nightmare must be," Kain admitted. He cast his memory back to the moment when the Carnelian Signet activated and destroyed Rydia's hometown of Mist. He'd heard from Rosa that catastrophic event had prevented Rydia from learning how to cast Fire until circumstances forced the girl to confront the trauma. "I should get Cecil," Kain said. "Perhaps he can comfort..." He was stopped from standing up straight as Rydia had a tight grasp on a significant amount of his hair. "Rydia?!"

"Don't go," Rydia whispered faintly. "Kain, don't leave me!"

"You are safe, Rydia. White Mage and the other healers have been tending you round the clock," Kain told her.

"How – how long have I...?" Rydia sighed as if even the few words exhausted her.

"Don't talk," White Mage said. "You need to rest and finish recovering. It has been two days."

"Okay. But, Kain... Stay. Keep the nightmares away..." Rydia begged.

"I don't know how I can do that, but I will stay," Kain promised.

"Thank... you..." Rydia whispered as she turned over and curled up on her other side. As she refused to let go of Kain's hair, he was forced to sit on the side of the bed to avoid having it pulled. He lifted startled eyes to White Mage, who laughed silently at his predicament.

"It's a good thing you didn't visit while clad in all your armor," White Mage noted softly. As Kain was now forced to sit on the side of the bed, that is, as he didn't have the heart to reclaim his ponytail from Rydia's unexpected and tight grasp, he was definitely in agreement.

"Since you are here with her now, I will take a break. It's been a while since I have had a chance to eat," White Mage said.

"But..."

"She's not needing any curing from me – and I know she's not in any danger from you," White Mage smiled, then suited her actions to her words and left the dormitory.

Kain reflected that was very true. He didn't let Rydia's artificial return to a young-appearing state change his judgement about her as a person – something he knew proud Rydia would appreciate. To this day, even after Cecil's marriage to her, Kain loved Rosa fiercely. He acknowledged Rydia was accomplished, intelligent, beautiful – everything than Rosa was, in her own way – but his heart was still set on Rosa. Still, Rydia was a friend, struggling through something hard, and her request was so easy to fill. He'd remain and watch her sleep and hope that his mere presence could somehow chase away the nightmares for her.

* * *

"You three seem to be on a mission," Celes observed as Kitt, Aerith and Tifa made their way through the common hall. "Anything we can help with?"

"It's kinda boring around here," Terra added.

"Yeah, where are all the guys?" Tifa asked looking around for any of them.

"Most of them followed Tidus and Wakka to the back field to watch some demonstration or another of that game those two like. Celes and I decided to pass."

"Guys and their sports. Let's just hope there aren't any chocobos around here, or Cloud's going to set up a racetrack around the Royal Archives!" Aerith claimed. "As for us, we are off to a vantage point Kitt told us about to view the city."

"Oh, that might be fun!" Terra exclaimed. "I know we can't just walk around anywhere we want, as recognizable as we are," She shrugged, still not quite believing that their stories were the stuff of heroic legends here. "But at least we can look, right?"

"I'm not sure why we haven't been called upon to rescue a new Record yet, but I guess it's okay since Rydia is still recovering. And, I think we all sort of needed a break from the fighting," Kitt admitted. "I was going to ask Dr. Mog about it later..."

"Yes, later! For now, show us this special place of yours!" Aerith urged.

"Okay, okay!" Kitt laughed. "Follow me."

"Don't we always?" Celes asked Terra in a whisper. Terra smiled and nodded.

Kitt took the last turn in the narrow, dark passageway of the tower, and opened the door. Sunlight flooded the stairway behind her, causing Tifa, Aerith, Celes and Terra to blink up at her to adjust their eyes to the sudden brightness. Kitt stifled a giggle. She'd kept her eyes closed and navigated by touch, but she knew that despite her suggestion her friends do the same, they probably wouldn't. It was hard to deliberately not look when venturing somewhere new, even if it were so dark it was impossible to see. The women found themselves in a small belvedere on the roof.

"How did you ever find this place?" Terra exclaimed. "It's beautiful up here!"

"Normally the dorms are full of other apprentices, and it can get really noisy. I found the doorway leading up to here by accident. Since it is so dark in the stairway, and the doorway is so small and out of the way, I don't think anyone else ever comes up here. It's a great place to study," Kitt explained.

"It's a great place to spy on what the guys are doing!" Aerith said. She pointed.

Sure enough, they had an unobstructed view on the field where many of the men were engaged in all sorts of activities.

"It's kinda hard to play blitzball without water," Kitt said, squinting down and trying to make sense of what the guys were doing. "I guess the point of whatever game they are trying to play now is to kill whoever has the ball."

Sure enough, Tidus emerged from under the onslaught of Wakka, Cloud, Cyan, Knight, Ranger, Black Mage, Red Mage and Bard, roared his triumph, and spiked the ball. Everyone scrambled trying to get the loose ball, evidently knowing full-well that to possess it meant everyone else would try to clobber one to get it.

"I will never understand men's games." Terra shook her head. "Though it is nifty to see Cyan in the mix. He's _playing_. It's brutal and seems likely to be dangerous, but it still counts as a game, right?" She turned to look at Celes.

"I suppose. Not one I'd ever want to play." Celes looked at the samurai. He had a streak of dirt across his cheek and his hair was every which way from tussling for the ball. "Gau would not believe it to see 'Mr. Thou' like this!"

Terra giggled.

"I admit I like beating Cloud in chocobo racing," Tifa admitted. "And, well, brawling is sort of my fighting style. Still, it seems sort of silly to be putting forth all that effort over who has a ball."

"Hmm, I bet, in their tiny, pea-sized brains, that ball isn't just a ball – or a weapon. It's something special that must be protected or seized at any cost. At least, I think that's how they manage to get so worked up over this," Aerith commented.

"They do seem to be backing off from the point of actually hurting each other," Kitt noticed. "Which is wise, considering I don't they they have any healers down there!"

"Red Mage usually has a curing spell ready," Aerith noted. "And we are watching them – I suppose if someone gets hurt we can swoop in for the rescue."

"I think it would be kinda hard to 'swoop' effectively down a small, cramped, pitch-black staircase, but we could manage to do something if one of them really hurts another, I suppose," Celes observed.

"Do you think they'd be upset we are watching them?" Kitt fretted.

Aerith looked at her and grinned. "Watching? No. Discussing their merits and ranking them in order of absolute hunkiness? Wellll..."

"Ooh! That does sound like fun!" Terra clapped her hands together.

"Hmmm, let's start simply – Cyan. Tell us about him," Aerith said.

"His story is so sad," Terra began. "Remember Kefka from that Record we restored? Kefka had poison dumped into the water that supplied the castle where Cyan and his family lived. Everyone except Cyan died. He lost his wife and child to Kefka's madness and lust for power."

Celes continued. "Prior to that he had been the most trusted retainer to the king of Doma – I think that's why he speaks in such a formal way. He's like a strict, old-school samurai, but, he has a softer side. He is friends with Gau, a wild child, and..."

"No, you're doing it wrong! We're supposed to dish on the guys!" Aerith complained.

"Dish?"

"Y'know, chat, gossip. Tell us if he's vain about his mustache, or does he pose in the mirror to admire his muscles when he thinks no one is watching," Aerith clarified.

"Ohhh."

Tifa grinned wickedly. "Let's start with something simple; who uses more hair care products – Sephiroth or Cloud?"

Aerith giggled. "I don't know if it reached to Nibelheim back in the day, but when Sephiroth was still a hero and SOLDIER's greatest success, he had a fan club."

"Do tell!"

"Oh, yes. Zack shared the letters the Silver Elite would send to the membership. I don't know if their intel was accurate, but they claimed that Sephiroth would use an entire bottle of both shampoo and conditioner each time he washed his hair, and that he tended to favor floral scents."

Tifa's mouth dropped open in shock. She looked around at all the women, knowing that each one was doing as she was, trying to recall if they had ever caught a whiff of flowers anywhere near Sephiroth.

"I bet..." Kitt spoke up. "I bet that Cloud needs to use _more_ than a bottle of styling gel to get his hair to maintain that wild, spiked look."

"Shellac," Tifa claimed flatly. "I've never caught him at it, but I bet he actually shellacs it."

Terra dropped her face into her hands to smother a fit of sudden giggles. "I wonder..."

"What? Are you okay?" Aerith asked.

Terra waved a hand to indicate she was okay, but still smothered her giggles with the other one. "Can you just imagine it – the guys always claim that women are obsessed about our appearance and must gather to share beauty secrets – perhaps they accuse us of that because that's what they do!" She dissolved into giggles again.

Celes suddenly grinned. "Oh, so you think Kain might ask Seph what his secret of such long and well behaved hair is?"

Everyone considered it.

"Nope. Just can't see that..." Aerith said. "Kain is too serious."

"Yeah, it's _Kain_ who's implausible in that scenario!" Tifa scoffed.

"Oh, I don't know. According to Zack, there was a time Sephiroth actually had a sense of humor."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Hair is all well and good, but I have to admit it's easier for me to get interested in a guy whose totally ripped," Celes said.

"Oooh, yeah, let's discuss that!"

"All the guys have muscles," Terra observed. "What? I have eyes!" She added when everyone looked at her.

"Yeah, but Cloud and even Tidus – they've got strength and muscles it's just..." Aerith started.

"It's sort of a solid, workaday strength. Is that what you mean? Not like Sephiroth, whose got that height to make that strength look completely awesome," Tifa suggested. "Though his eyes tend to creep me out," she added in a lower tone of voice.

"Exactly! When I think about what I mean when I say 'ripped' I'm talking about..."

"Dark Knight Cecil!" Everyone said in unison.

"What would be even better is if the man himself is as ripped as his armor seems to indicate," Tifa added. "Kain's out and about without his armor – perhaps Cecil is, too?"

Aerith clapped her hands together. "I know – let's take a vote. Cecil – Dark Knight or Paladin? I think he's pretty dreamy in his paladin aspect – Tifa?"

"I guess I like him more dark and mysterious. Dark Knight Cecil for me." She grinned.

Celes nodded. "A guy in armor where you can't really tell if he's as 'all that' as his armor seems to indicate. There's nothing wrong with a touch of Darkness now and then."

"Oh, but he's just sooo pretty as the paladin! And he's even kinder, or maybe it's just easier to tell he's kind when he's that way," Terra protested.

"Well, Kitt, it falls to you to break the tie," Aerith turned toward the girl who'd just been listening to the banter. Kitt started to find herself the center of attention.

"Oh, uhm, well." Kitt stared dreamily off into space. "There _is_ something about a guy in armor – knights are just so romantic, don't you think? Even when they are dark. Oh, but that makes his change into a paladin even more impressive, because he was so impressive as a dark knight first. But, then again, Paladin Cecil is just so – beautiful, you know? That hair that looks as soft as moonlight and the gentle luster that he always seems to have. I wonder if he actual casts light in complete dark? Oh, but I mustn't forget how it's so much easier to see his lovely blue eyes, touched with just a bit of melancholy, as the dark knight when the visor is up. He's absolutely terrifying when you can't see his face, but when you can, he's heroically beautiful, don't you agree? It's a bit easier to see his kind eyes in the dark knight, because you aren't sort of blinded by everything else in the paladin."

"I think we broke her brain asking her to decide between them. Or, him. Or, whatever," Tifa 'whispered' to Aerith.

She nodded. "I agree. Kitt, you are a terrible tie-breaker!"

"Now, we should consider..." Aerith interrupted herself. "What is that?"

The boom that distracted her echoed through the air again.

"That came from – the city! They are shooting fireworks for some reason!" Kitt cried out, dashing toward the side of the belvedere that faced the city. "What – what is that?!" She pointed.

Something inky black crept across the rooftops. It wasn't particularly rapid, but nothing seemed to slow its pace. It merely climbed up a wall if a higher rooftop was next on its path. Faint screams carried toward them on the wind now along with fewer and fainter booms. Kitt tore open the door and charged down the staircase. Once she hit the ground level she turned and dashed for the door that led to the outside area where the guys were. She blinked to find Tifa had beat her there.

"Martial artist," Tifa said economically and pointed toward the belvedere, just barely visible from the ground. "It has its uses."

The game forgotten, Cyan demanded, "What were those noises? What is going on?"

"I – don't know. I think the city – is under attack!" Kitt gasped. "I have to – do something!"

"No, _we_ have to do something," Cyan decided after gathering Tidus, Wakka, Cloud and the others with his gaze. "You go and find Dr. Mog; perhaps he has some information we will need to subdue this threat." Kitt nodded and ran back toward the building. "We will engage the enemy and hold him off until you arrive." Cyan called after her. After taking charge in such a calm and matter of fact manner, Cyan uttered a war cry and tore off in the direction of the city.

"What are we waiting for?!" Tidus yelled. "After him!"

"Oh, dear!" Terra exclaimed. "I'm not sure this is the best..."

"Come on. We can't stop them with logic and for all we know, Cyan's right. A strong offense from us heroes might be just what is needed, and the guys are going to need us to back them up with spells and cures. Let's go!" Celes grabbed Terra's arm and pulled her after the rest of the charging heroes.

Aerith blinked. Just a moment ago she'd been hanging out and chatting with the girls while looking down on the guys playing on this very field. Once the sounds had alerted all of them that something strange was going on in the city, it was almost frightening how rapidly the fun and games stopped and how decisively everyone had sprung into action following Cyan's direction. Even Tifa had rushed off in the first wave of warriors and Kitt had entered the Royal Archive to find Dr. Mog and hopefully gain some information as to what was going on. Aerith wasn't certain if she should stay here and wait for Kitt, or lend her skills to the others in what seemed more and more as if it had to be a battle of some sort.

Sephiroth stepped into the nearly empty clearing from the shadows of the trees. He braced Warrior across his right shoulder and carried the Masamune at the ready in his left hand. With swift, economical motion he lifted the wounded Warrior from his shoulder and placed him on the ground in a move astonishing for its absolute strength and graceful control.

"Heal him," Sephiroth commanded, while gazing toward the faint and distant sounds of battle ringing forth from the city.

"What did you do to him?!" Aerith demanded in a semi-strangled whisper as she dropped to her knees to assess the wounds.

Sephiroth deigned to look down at her. "I wasn't trying to kill him, if that is your concern. We were merely sparring. Now, if you don't mind – heal him, get him ready for battle and prepare yourself. I am certain we will be called upon to save Kitt's city."

"Most of the rest have already left to do just that!" Aerith retorted.

"Oh? I suppose I can give the others a head start, but do hurry or I'll leave you behind," Sephiroth warned.

Author's note –

Who else suspected that Tifa might be a parkour enthusiast?


End file.
